


Keep This In Mind

by DaGuppz (orphan_account)



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: M/M, george has actual morals, jordon is a minor, jorel is a bit of a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DaGuppz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an idea for Jordon being a minor and like George, who is over eighteen, a lot bit Geore has actual moral and knows that's a horrible fucking idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a change in pace from what i usually write.  
> this was going to originally be a oneshot but then i was like: nevermind, im baking cookies.
> 
> enjoy~~ you immoral shits
> 
> also i used google docs to write this B3

Jordon hopped off his bike, almost late for work. School had kept him late to work on a project for a science class he really didn't need but took anyways.  
He locked his bike to a pole in the alley parking lot and rushed inside, stripping off his jacket and throwing it in the breakroom of the bookstore.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” He said as he entered the main room where his employer and his coworker were waiting.

“We’re not even open yet, calm down.” One of them said, Jorel, the literal embodiment of an emo boy from a 2008 youtube channel. Wide, hollow plugs in his ears and scars on his wrists from lesser days.  
“Oh.” Jordon felt embarrassed at his actions and looked over at his employer.

The man who had interviewed was tall and heavily built, decked out with tattoos and a 3 on his throat, bracelets on his wrists ranging from dull black to colorful rainbow.  
He had bright blue eyes and shortly shorn hair, unlike Jordon’s which was almost a mullet.

To be honest, Jordon found him very attractive, even if he was in his thirties and Jordon was only seventeen.

He couldn’t help himself, he’d been working here for two years and he’d most definitely grown to love George in the most inappropriate way.

The weirdest, and most obsessive, it got was him keeping a journal of things he wanted to do with George. Romantic dates, getting together on cold nights to cuddle under a blanket, kissing behind the book shelves in the store.

Yeah, obsessive. 

 

The work was flowing in and people bought books and sold some as this was a new/used store.  
George said he liked it that way, he could buy and sell books most people would see since they were from ten, twenty years ago.

Jordon sat down on a worn chair in the breakroom and sipped at the orange juice he had bought from the vending machine down the street.

With Jorel’s break not being for another ten minutes, and George’s for twenty, he found that this would be a good time to write something.  
Not that he was worried about his coworker and employer being nosey about his writing, he just found it harder to write with people in the room.

He pulled his leather bound notebook out of his school book bag and opened it to the first clean page he could find.  
He unhooked his pen from the pages and started a new sentence.

_I smile at George as he leads me to the cheesey date setting, a 7/11._  
I laugh as we walk inside and he stops, “What? Not good enough for your standards, Terrell?”  
He flashes a bright smile at me from his tall stance, arms crossed over his chest jokingly.  
“Mhh, I dunno. 7/11? Idnt that a bit cheesey, **Ragan**?” I emphasise his last name with a smile to match his. 

“Jordon, can you help George up front?” Jorel walks into the break room and flops down down across from him.  
“Yeah, no problem, J.” He tosses his note book onto an end table, the leather making a popping sound and hurries to help the older male out in the store front.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, yeah uh, hi.  
> so any bad grammar in this is because right now im having a hard time keeping my spanish and english in their proper and acceptable moments.  
> alright, anywhore.
> 
>  
> 
> enjoy~~ you soft doggy paws  
> (im trying to make each chapter at least 500 words btw)

Jordon shoves his things into his backpack and throws away his juice cup from earlier.   
He pushes open the back door and stops as he hears his name called.

He spins around to see George coming up to him.  
“You got a second, Jordon?” He asks, putting his thumbs in his belt band.

Jordon sets his book bag on the concrete next to him and puts his hands in his pants pockets, “Yeah, what’s up?”  
Usually after work George wouldn’t talk to Jordon, only get into his car with Jorel and drive him home as the other didn’t drive.

George looked towards the opening of the alleyway parking lot.  
He sighed audibly, “Can I talk to you about that notebook?” He quickly added: “I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable around me or coming back to work, but-” He paused and sighed again, “It’s inappropriate and I don’t want any of us to get in trouble, you, me or Jorel.”

Jordon stared at George’s chest, the only thing eye level if he didn’t look at the ground. He took in a shaky breath and said, “Okay.”  
He knew exactly what George meant. That he shouldn’t think, much less write, about those things.

He turned away and quickly unlocked his bike before leaving the parking lot.

He felt like he was going to cry. He didn’t think Jorel could be that much of an asshole to look through someone’s personal belongings.  
That hurt, Jordon was amazed that Jorel, a guy who liked his personal space bubble, would go through his things even if he left it on a table.

He pushed his bike into the garage of his parent’s house and trudged to the door connecting it to the laundry room.  
He opened it and closed it harshly, more angry than hurt now.

Some friend Jorel was. Stupid emo boy, damn hypocrite, little fucking bitch.

Jordon stomped to his room, slamming that door too.  
He chucked his book bag at the floor by his desk and threw himself onto his bed.  
Shoving his face into his pillow and stuffing his mouth with it, he screamed loudly, absolutely furious at Jorel.

Sooner or later his rage died down to heavy breathing punctuated with sobs.  
A knock came on his bedroom door, and his let go of the pillow for a second, his jaw sore from being clench on the fabric.  
“Go awa-y.” His breaking voice escaped his mouth before he filled it with his wet pillow again.

His head was filled with the repeating mantra: _Stupid fucking Jorel, stupid fucking Jorel, stupid fucking Jorel!_

“Jordon, dinner’s ready if you want it.” His mother called through the door.  
He begged God that George didn’t call her about what had occurred at store today.  
That would ruin his reputation with his family, not just having the hots for an older person but a man at that.   
Not that his mother had anything against the whole LGBTQ+(++++++) community but it just made him cringe to have to explain any of it to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments over kudos
> 
> did you notice i didnt insult you this time? thats a step in the right, yeah?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ill get to a slaughter in the key of sex later but i need something less violent rn even if this chapter is a bit dark.

Jordon bumbled out of his room and to the kitchen, sitting down on the wooden bench on the outside of the table.  
His brother, Jake, at one end of the table, his mother at the other, his sister, Natalie, and other brother, Jesse, across from him.  
“Food’s on the counter.” Jake said, looking up from his plate of macaroni. 

Jordon pushed himself away from the table and walked back to his room, closing the door behind him.  
Fuck that, he didn’t want to eat with this weighing down on him. He would just wind up binging on cheesey pasta all night.  
He’d definitely done it before.

Jordon turned off his ceiling light and laid down on his bed again, turning the wet spot on his pillow over to face the mattress.   
He slept uneasily, dreading seeing George tomorrow at work.  
\------  
Jordon locked up his bike in it’s usual space, the light pole in front of George’s car, and slowly made his way to the door.  
He tossed his things into the break room as he passed it, ignoring Jorel who tried to gain his attention.

He moved into the store front and took a cart of books needing shelving to their designated area.

The day was plain, he didn’t talk to anyone but the customers who asked for his assistance, and that was few, as George took charge of them, leaving Jordon to his own thoughts.

Jordon plopped down in the audio book section, in the space between the end of a shelf and a wall corner.   
He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, along with a red pen.  
He was still seething with anger towards Jorel and needed some way to release it. Why not write it out?   
Just don’t be an idiot and leave it on a damn end table this time.

_Jorel stocked shelves in the romance section, how ironic, his back turned to the world and he puts away some third edition cliche junk.  
I watch him do this, twiddling the weapon I’m carrying behind my hip._

_I narrow my eyes as I approach him.  
“George, Jorel!” I call out, I want George to watch and Jorel to feel everything about to happen.  
“What’s up?” George says as he enters the isle from the opposite side of me.  
I grit my teeth and and grab Jorel by his shirt collar, raising the tanto blade to his neck and pressing it into the place where bone meets flesh.  
George gasps and rushes at us, me, Jorel. He’s bleeding out as I turn the knife and George pulls us apart, gripping his friend’s neck.  
No one else was in the store, George would have to let go of Jorel’s wound to call an ambulance, Jorel would hopefully bleed out.  
I watch as Jorel bleeds, his hands clenched in the shoulders of George shirt.  
George is bawling, Jorel’s mouth is open, trying to breathe over the blood in his airways.  
I watch silently as Jorel’s chest stops heaving and George rests his head on it._

“Jordon, we’re closing up, go home, dude.” George said, standing in front of him.  
Jordon stood up and shoved the paper and pen into his pocket before pushing past the man and out the back door, grabbing his book bag on the way.

He unlocked his bike and pulled it away from the light post, hitting George’s car on accident.  
“Fuckin’...”   
He licked his thumb and rubbed at the scratch, hoping it only got at the top coat.  
No such luck.  
The actual paint had been scratched away.

Jordon leaned his bike back up to the pole and bounced his head off the flimsy metal.  
He groaned loudly and hit his head against it again, leaving his head resting on it this time.  
He might as well wait for George to get out here and yell at him, couldn’t be any worse than yesterday.

Nothing could be worse than that.

 

“Jordon, what’re you doing?” George asked, Jorel right behind him.  
“Being a fucking idiot and wanting to die.” He he muttered, his anger reapearing when he caught sight of Jorel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments over kudos plx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, hi.   
> since this one has four chapters now i will be updating a slaughter in the key of sex next.  
> other than that, i like to gove george moral dilemmas that ruin lots of wonderful things.
> 
> enjoy~~ you hopfully non-maps  
> (not that i have a problem if you are, just stay on ur side of tumblr i dont need trouble)

Jordon closed his eyes and kept his head against the pole, expecting to get yelled at.  
“It’s starting to rain, why don’t I drive you home?” George more of stated it than asked, motioning for Jordon to get in his car.  
“I have to ride home other wise I can’t get here in the morning.” Jordon said angrily. He would have happily rode home with George before but now with him knowing practically everything about Jordon, and Jorel being there, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t.  
“I can pick you up in the morning, too. Forecast looks pretty shit.”

George persisted until it actually did begin to rain and Jordon was forced to get in, that or be soaked to the bone and freezing.

Jorel and George were in the front with Jordon in the back, behind George.  
Jordon slouched up against the door, staring out the window of the opposite one.

Jorel’s home was on the way to his own with a few streets inbetween.

With Jorel out of the car George motion for Jordon to join him in the front. He complied, not wanting to look like a child in the back.  
He buckled himself in and George turned on the radio to a quiet level on a metal type song.

George was focused on the road while Jordon was focused half on him half on the pavement in front of them.  
“Can I ask what you were writing about today?” George spoke up.  
“Stuff. Don’t worry, it wasn’t about you.” Jordon mumbled, not looking the man in the eye.

George sighed, it seemed like he did that a lot lately.  
“Jordon, I’m sorry if I angered you or made you upset in some way with what I said yesterday. I really am sorry. I can understand having feeling for someone, even older than yourself, and having to express them in some way.”  
He sighed again, maybe it was something he did when he was stressed.  
Jordon hoped he wasn’t stressing him out.

“To be completely honest, Jordon, you’re an amazing young man. You work hard and have a good personality, I would love to try out a relationship with you, but I don’t want to risk going back to jail.” George had looked over at Jordon a few times during the small speech and noticed the tears lining his eyes.

George pulled up to Jordon’s house and parked his car.  
“I’m not lying to make you feel better, or worse. I’m not lying about thinking you’re a nice guy.” George turned to face the boy.  
“I’m not lying about thinking it’d be nice to go out on a date or somethin’ with you, I just don’t want any of us to get in trouble your folks or the law.”  
He paused again, longer, looking at Jordon’s house, and back at him before continuing.

“Alright, go inside. Don’t get too wet, can’t have you dying of hypothermia.” George reached over him and pulled the lock on the door open.  
As he pulled away he was met with arms wrapping around him in a hug.  
He turned and hugged Jordon back, rubbing his shoulder.  
They stayed like that for some time before George pulled back and asked for a piece of paper.

Jordon gave him a piece he had in his backpack and a pen, watching George write his number down in chicken scratch hand work.  
“If you need to talk.”   
Jordon took the paper from him and was ushered out of the car and into his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments over kudos, plxxxx.  
> (off topic time)  
> im rewatching TWD for the 100000000 time and when morgan tries to shoot his dead wife and makes that "hhgfshg" sound i laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new chapter, after what? a month?  
> yeah ive been sleepin- i mean slacking.  
> im not gonna lie. ive just been sleeping, a lot.  
> ten hour siestas.  
> anywhore,  
> enjoy~~ you fat dog- i mean stella lovers

Jordon rolled out of bed the next day, with not having to go to work he could laze around all day until he was bothered to put pants on and do something.

He was crashed on the couch with his fat ass shiba inu, Stella, flopped on his chest at the time the door bell was rung. 

First once.  
Then insistently.

Jordon pushed the dog off him, draping the blanket he was under over her and made his way to the door, still no pants by the by.

He looked through the peephole.  
Outside, on his concrete steps, stood his best friend, Dylan, and his boyfriend, Matthew.

Matt was nineteen years old, with Dylan sixteen at the moment, they'd been together for two years with little trouble from Dylan's parents, or anyone for that matter.

 

He opened the door and welcomed them in, finding his spot on the couch again and pushing Stella out of it.  
"Did you just wake up?" Mat asked, his voice scratchy as always, either too much smoking or some never ending chest cold.  
"I woke up at seven but went back to sleep when the heater arrived." He responded, pointing at the fat, meme-creating dog.

"I see." Matt said, raising his eyebrows and glancing around the living room before plopping down on the couch, his boyfriend laying across both their laps.

A conversation started that led to Dylan asking about a book, an odd thing to talk about from a convo that started with crayon colors.  
"What's that book where the S's on the cover look like fuckin' F's?"  
The two older males were drawn into a bout of "Oh! I know that one!", "Uhm, fuck, what is it?" and "It's on the tip of my dic- tongue!" sentences.

"Oh, wait! I got this!"  
Jordon jogged up to his room and grabbed his pants from last night, pulling out the piece of notebook paper.  
He came back down the stairs and grabbed the landline off the wall, punching in the numbers sloppily written on the paper.

He gave a thumbs up and a cheesy smile to his friends as the line clicked with an answer.  
_"Hello?"_

"Hi, is George there?"  
For a second there was yelling on the other end, something that sounded like metal dishes clattering around and stumbling.  
_"Hello? Who's this?"_

Jordon held up a finger at his impatient friends, "Hey, it's Jordon, I ha-"  
_"One second, man."_

There was a second, third and fourth set of voices, all shout in the background followed by George telling them to shut up.

_"Sorry about that. You need something?"_

Aw man, now he felt guilty for calling him if he was having family, and/or roommate, problems.  
"If you're busy I can call back later, it's not that important."

_"Nah, it's fine, I've just got four idiots running around my house trying to set something up. What'd'ya need, Jordon?"_

He turned to look at his friends who seemed to forget their mission for the book tittle and were just sucking face on his couch.

"Ya know, never mind. This was stupid."  
_"Dude, Jordon, if you nee-"_  
Jordon put the phone back on the wall stand, hanging up on George and moving to the couch an pulling the two apart.  
"Can you not make out on my couch? My family sits on that. Go home and do that."

The phone rang at that point, making all three jump.  
"Did he just star 69 my number? God damn it."  
Jordon grumbled his way back to the telephone and pointed at his front door, kicked the other two out nonverbally.  
He pulled the landline off the wall and up to his ear, "Yes?" 

_"Dude, really? What'd you need to talk about? I'm sure it's not stupid."_

"No, it was definitely stupid because it was just my idiot friend wanting to know what the name of a damn book was." Jordon said, walking a bit away from the wall to pet his dog who was waddling towards him. 

_"Well, maybe you and them should come over and read sometime."_

Jordon felt like he was going to puke. George had just suggested he come over. Well, he suggested that he and Dylan come over to read a book. But still, damn it!

"If that wouldn't put a damper on your four idiots setting things up." Jordon chuckled and got a snort out of the other.

 _"Nothing could put a damper on them. But if you wanna come over just call first. Shit, I gotta go, bye. Aro-"_ The line ended with a slam and click.

Jordon hung the phone back on the wall and picked up his dog, "Fuck you're fat. We both gotta work out girl. But I'm goin' to George's! And Dylan, but fuck him! Still happy days!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments over kudos, yo.  
> hey, look, no one has died yet.  
> but theres always time for murder!

**Author's Note:**

> comments over kudos!  
> did you like?????
> 
> edit: look at that shitty grammar in my synopsis! J3T damn! thas what i get for speaking two languages, right?


End file.
